All I Want for Christmas
by KricketWilliams
Summary: Penelope finds her Christmas spirit zapped away. Can the team, her "Secret Santa", and her Hot Stuff turn it around and make it bright? Written for the Christmas Fic Gift Exchange on CCOAC. As usual, I don't own a thing.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: First of all, this story was written for the Christmas Fic Gift exchange on Chit Chat on Author's Corner. That being said, I wish a warm Merry Christmas to **LoveMeThatsAllIAskofYou**, who suggested the prompts of **Silent Night. Fireplace, Christmas cookies,** and** snow angels**. I used some of them in unorthodox ways, but I hope you-and everyone else-reading this story will enjoy. With love, Kricket_

_PS. This is six chapters long, with the prompt **Fireplace**, in the epilogue. As a bonus, you can pick the ending you'd like "T" or "M". Consider it an extra stocking stuffer! :)_

**Chapter 1**

_Dear PG,_

_It's that time of year to get in the spirit: eggnog, carols, presents, and here at the BAU—Secret Santa! This season, we are doing three gifts, given each Wednesday for the next two weeks, with the largest gift given Friday before Christmas, when we reveal our Santas to each other._

_We randomly drew names. Your assignment this year is Reid._

_Thanks for participating!_

_JJ, this year's Elf Coordinator _

After reading that ho-ho-horrible email, Penelope sighed heavily. Normally, she was the one who organized and planned the BAU holiday party. It had been an extravaganza every year—she'd decorated, she'd brought cookies, she'd dressed in silly elf costumes.

Three days ago, JJ had come up to her and said, "What's the plan this year?"

Penelope had been in a terrible mood the entire week. She'd broken up with Kevin a week before and hadn't told a soul about it. That in itself wouldn't have been so terrible. Although it had been a long relationship, there'd been little to no passion left between them. They'd been running their course for too long.

However, not only was she boyfriend-less, she was also family-less. It was twenty years this year since her parents had passed away in the crash that had taken their lives. She was really looking forward to seeing her family, but then Peter, her oldest brother, had called. He, Paul, Parker, and Payton had all decided that this year, due to the expense of travel, they were going to forgo getting together on the holidays and would do a summer get-together instead…if she would be of the same mind, of course.

With all four of her brothers in agreement—an incredible oddity in the Garcia family—she'd felt she couldn't deviate. She'd told them she was fine with it. So, as a replacement for of being home with her family, she would be stuck there in Quantico, alone—or almost worse…being a third wheel at Hotch's or JJ's house.

To top off her day, she'd gotten a speeding ticket driving into work. Due to all of the above, she'd had a decisive lack of holiday cheer when poor JJ had stepped up and asked that question…

_She turned on a dime and glared at her poor friend. "You know, Jayje? This year, I don't feel like being the festive one."_

"_Really?" JJ asked, surprised. "You usually are so…jolly this time of year."_

_For some reason, that irritated her even more. "Well, not this year. I'm tired of being the fat and jolly one—"_

"_Penelope, you know I didn't mean it that way!"_

_Garcia ignored her. "I don't feel like putting up decorations, or having daily treats, or sending cute e-cards. I don't feel like wearing holiday costumes and hair decorations or buying light bulb necklaces to share."_

"_Garcia…what's wrong?"_

_Normally, the concern on JJ's face would've moved her, but she was too angry and hurt to absorb it right now. "Nothing! I just don't feel like putting on a happy face and bringing holiday cheer to the rest of you who grumble and moan and complain through everything anyway."_

"_We're not that bad," she argued, and then __gave a sad__, but sheepish look. "Are we?"_

"_It's like pulling __teeth!" Penelope__ snapped, __"and__ this year, I don't feel like being the Annual December __Dentist. Get__ someone else."_

With that, she'd left a gaping JJ in the dust. She'd felt like a complete ass afterward; she knew JJ would never be mean or spiteful. Penelope had apologized, knowing it wasn't enough, but JJ had been her usual gracious self.

"We all reach our limits, Garcie. You reached yours," she'd said. "You need to talk, I'm here."

That easy forgiveness only served to make Penelope feel like more of a heel.

As she stared at the email, she thought about all the things she would miss out on doing because she wasn't doing the holiday thing, and felt kind of bad about it. However, she did probably need a break. It was someone else's turn, and JJ would do a great job.

Thinking of the positives, she smiled faintly. Buying for Reid was like buying for a little kid a lot of the time. It was a piece of cake: magic sets, trick cards, _Star Wars_ ornaments—she shopped at the same place she bought Jack his stuff. Maybe she'd get him a new purple scarf to replace his current one that he owned and wore all the time?

She began to scowl again. She didn't know why she cared so much. Christmas was for the young and the young at heart, and at the moment, she felt like neither. She didn't want to spoil anyone else's holiday—certainly not Reid's, Henry's, or Jack's holiday—but she wasn't going to go out of her way to do anything for herself. It was time to grow up and be an adult. She probably wouldn't even put up a tree.

Probably.

She sighed again. Anyway, all that could all wait. Now, she had work to do. She turned back to her computer and began to type, her heart still feeling heavy and weighted down.

For deep down inside, the only thing Penelope Garcia thought she really wanted for Christmas was a miracle...to get her _Christmas Mojo_ back.


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: To all the wonderful voters who voted for me in the Profiler's Choice Awards...thank you so much! I am humbled and honored to write for you. You keep me typing away!...Please check out the Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum and see the other authors who were nominated. There are some really great stories on there!...Thanks for the reviews...we're getting some Christmas cheer now!_

**Chapter 2**

"Ho ho ho! Merrrrrry Christmas!" Dave Rossi, decked out in a Santa suit and a beard, called out from the hallway between Penelope's and Derek's offices.

"Hey guys, it's the jolly old elf himself! Come out of your offices," JJ said, holding a tray of spiced cider.

Penelope had to give it to JJ; she'd really stepped up to the plate this year. She was wearing pointed elf ears and a hat and looked totally adorable. It was something Penelope would've worn…back when she cared about that kind of thing.

"I can vouch for the old part," Morgan teased, causing _Santa_ to shoot an elbow into Derek's rock hard gut.

"Watch it, whippersnapper," Dave warned, wagging a finger at him, "or it's nothin' but coal for you."

Derek laughed and wrapped an arm around Penelope. "Ain't no way my baby would let that happen. Right, P?"

Penelope saw Derek's radiant grin and couldn't help but smile back; his grin was eternally infectious. Still, she answered, "Sorry, shug, you're on your own."

"Oh ho!" Rossi said with a chuckle of his own. "Shot down during the holidays. Tsk, tsk, tsk—you must be on the naughty list…"

"The holidays have just begun, _Nick_," Derek replied, narrowing his eyes at Rossi. "Notice I left off the _Saint_ part…"

"All the more fun for me," Rossi countered with a gleeful chuckle as he tossed Derek's present at him. He opened his bag and handed the other gift to Penelope. "Here you go, Kitten."

"Thanks, Santa."

After reaching for two glasses of the cider, Derek put his arm around Penelope again. "Let's go into the lounge and open them."

"All right."

Plopping down on the couch in the room, they began opening their gifts. Derek had a boyish exuberance about presents; it was fun to watch him tear into them. He drew out a sexy little elf ornament that looked just a touch obscene. For anyone else, it would've looked tacky, but for Derek Morgan, it was just the right gift. His reputation preceded him—he was as much of a wolf as Rossi—although honestly, Penelope couldn't remember the last time Derek had gone on a date.

"Baby?" Derek questioned, his head tilted slightly to the side. "What's up? You usually rip into your presents, too."

She shrugged. "I'm just not in the mood. It's not the same for me this year."

"My Holiday Baby?" he asked in an incredulous tone of voice. "Say it ain't so."

"Yeah…well…this Baby is being a big girl now," she said. "Christmas is more for kids, anyway."

Derek smiled softly at her, and then tapped her nose. "I want to see what you got. Open, please."

She rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. "Oh, all right…for you."

As she began to peel back the wrapping paper, a delicious scent rose from a box. It was mouthwatering, gorgeous, a hint of cinnamon and cloves, a touch of vanilla. Penelope loved scents, her favorites being the smell of rain on the pavement after a long drought, the scent of fresh baked bread, and of course, the essence of Derek's spicy, woodsy cologne mingled with his skin.

"Oooh," she exclaimed, taking out a pretty ornament. It looked like a gingerbread girl, decorated like she was wearing a fancy dress and high heels. It looked a little like her, with piped golden hair and little red shoestring licorice glasses. "This is so cute!"

"She looks positively edible…like her owner," Derek teased, winking at her.

Smiling at the ornament, her heart ached just a bit. She became lost in nostalgic memory. "She's great. She…reminds me."

"Of what?"

"I don't know," she said, and then shook her head. "Like baking cookies with my mom and brothers when I was growing up, I guess. We had an assembly line: Mom would mix dough, Peter would roll, Parker would flour surfaces, that kind of thing."

"What did you do?" he asked.

"I put the people on the cookie sheet," she said, remembering fondly. "Fun for kids."

Derek sat back with a thoughtful look. "You know, sweets, I miss your cookies. I think I could really go for some gingerbread right about now."

"D, I'm not baking for me this year," she said.

He scowled at her. "That's patently unfair. Why should I suffer because you're being a Grinch?"

"Hey!"

"That settles it," he announced, standing up. "Cookies. My place. Tonight. You and your rolling pin need to hustle on over after work. Clear?"

Despite her earlier protests, she was smiling from ear to ear. "Crystal."

* * *

><p>Four hours later, Penelope stood at Derek's kitchen counter, holding a wad of dough and some flour in her hands. She was wearing a plain black apron that had a T-bone steak emblazoned on the chest. It was obviously meant for grilling, but she didn't mind. It would help keep her clean.<p>

Derek was taking their fifth batch of gingerbread people out of his oven. Despite having a state of the art convection oven, Derek didn't cook much. He had two cookie sheets and ancient bowls that looked like they'd never been used in the entire time he'd lived in his house.

She'd had to bring a rolling pin, because he didn't own one.

"Have you ever baked before, sweet cheeks?" she asked.

"Nope," he said. "Momma and my sisters shooed me out of the kitchen because I'd eat all the dough as we'd go."

She laughed. She couldn't imagine a rolly polly little Derek eating raw cookie dough!

He smirked a little, before he continued, "And as an adult...well, I never need to."

She paused in rolling out her dough. "Why is that?"

"I don't have to," he said so self-assuredly, it made her look up at him. He grinned wickedly at her and said, "Pretty girls bring me sweet treats to keep up my sweetness quotient."

One minute, she was glaring at him, the next, she threw a wad of dough right in the middle of his _Kiss the Cook_ embellished apron. "There. That's my delivery."

"What? It's true," he argued, peeling the projectile off and tossing it back at her. "I'm adorable and cute, too."

She picked up some flour and tossed it at him, in the vicinity of his head, just marking his cheek as he ducked. "Now you look even cuter!"

He shot her a look and began to pick up handfuls of flour. "This means war, Garcia!"

Squealing, she took off out of the kitchen, but she wasn't quite fast enough. He made contact as he pitched a handful in her direction. She turned back and hurled another handful of dough she had at his face, but he ducked quickly and tossed his other handful of flour at her.

Sputtering and laughing, she wiped the powder off her glasses, and then ran back to the counter for more flour and dough. Derek had beaten her to it, but she reached for the bag, and they began to struggle. Suddenly, she let go, and he yanked the bag, getting flour in his face, too. She giggled, and then backed up out of the door.

"You little shit!" he called out, wiping his face. "Now you're going to get it."

"Oh, no," she said crossing the threshold into another room. "I'm in the living room. You don't want to get your nice carpet—eeek!"

Derek slung her over his shoulder like she was a sack of potatoes and stomped into the center of the room. "It'll vacuum."

"Oh, dear…Oh, shit!" she cried, giggling the entire time, as he tossed her onto the leather couch and surrounded her hips with his strong thighs. He folded both of her arms down and pinned her hands under his knees.

"Gotcha!" he proclaimed with a devious look on his face. "You forget...I'm a profiler. I know how to capture and contain."

She hadn't forgotten...although she'd hoped that perhaps he had?

"Oh...oh, no. Please," she begged.

A second later, he shook himself off, loads of flour falling onto her and coating her like newly fallen snow. She squeaked in protest and giggled at the same time.

"Ha!" he exclaimed, smiling down at her, his face still coated with white powder. "How do you like that?"

"You look like a doughboy," she teased, smiling up at him.

"And you are my doughgirl," he answered back, and then plucked her glasses from her face and wiped them on the only clean part of his apron. He put them back on her face. "There you go."

"Thanks, angelfish," she said. It was then she realized how awkward this was. She was coated in flour, as was her extremely hot best friend…and he was straddling her hips. She could feel the warmth of his hard thighs radiating where they touched her. Lord, how she wanted to run her hands up those thi-

Good Lord.

"Umm, D?" she asked rather sheepishly, hoping he couldn't read her thoughts. "Can you...er...get off of me?"

His eyes were twinkling with merriment. "Uh uh." He shook his head slowly, with mock regret, and said, "Afraid I can't do that."

She frowned. "Why not?"

"In any circumstance like this, the loser must pay the victor his spoils."

His devilish grin made her worry. Besides, he was right; she'd started the food fight, she had to pay. "What's that?"

He pointed to his apron. "Can't let you up until you do what it says."

She knew what it said, but she read it anyway…_. Kiss the Cook_.

Always the consummate tease.

Leaning up, she plastered a smack onto his cheek. "There. Now get off."

He sighed and moved slowly away with an air of disappointment. "I suppose…"

She stood and began to dust herself off. "Ugh. I really should go home and shower."

"Yeah," he said, walking into the kitchen. While she got her coat on, he came back with a brown paper lunch bag.

"Here. Cookies for you."

"Thanks, Derek." She kissed his cheek again, and he didn't have to ask for it that time. "I had fun."

He smiled back at her. "Don't forget that, sweetness: Big girls can have fun, too."

As she snuggled into bed later that night, she thought to herself, Sometimes e_ven more fun..._


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: Thank you for the reviews! Is everybody getting out of the ho-ho-hohums and into the holidays yet? ;)_

**Chapter 3**

Slowly but surely, Penelope was getting more Christmas cheer. It was hard not to, with all the Christmas things happening around her. Each day, there were cookies, candies, Christmas-related quizzes to do, and other activities.

Today, JJ had everyone decorating the BAU. Considering that the BAU had standard federal government issue furniture and cubicles, that wasn't an easy feat. She brought in big boxes of decorations that had been stored from previous years when Penelope ran the show and started in the main entryway by the elevators, stringing tinsel garland and flashy ornaments.

"PG!" JJ called out, holding up a line of snowmen. "Want to help?"

She shook her head. "I have a lot of work to do."

"Oh, no, sweet girl," Derek said, looping his arm around her waist and tugging her toward him. "You have to help out. It's in your job description…Hotch told me."

"Really?" she asked, trying not to smile and failing miserably.

"Mmm hmm. Severe consequences if you don't help out," he answered, and then looked over at Hotch. "Ain't that right, boss man?"

Hotch was stringing lights with Rossi. He paused, looked around the tree, and with a deadpan expression said, "Absolutely."

That made Penelope smile even more. She couldn't argue with that, and to tell the truth, she didn't want to. She started digging in the boxes, removing wrapping, and handing ornaments to Derek.

"Oh, I remember this one," she said, holding up an angel ornament. It had lots of feathers attached and golden glitter. "I bought this one with Kevin a couple of years back."

"Did he complain the whole time?" Derek quipped, like Kevin wasn't the topic he wanted to discuss. "You've always mentioned how he'd bitch and moan over all that shopping."

"He did," she said with a laugh. She hung the ornament on the tree. "That's one positive about no longer dating him; I never have to Christmas shop with him or for Fred and Arlene again."

Derek jolted in surprise, faced her, and then announced rather loudly, "You're not dating Lynch anymore?"

"Hush!" she ordered, looking around to see if anyone else had heard. "I don't want anyone else knowing yet."

"Why not?"

Sometimes Derek was such a man. She sighed heavily and began to explain, "If everyone knows we broke up, they'll feel sorry for me—"

"Or feel elated," he grumbled. That was no surprise; Derek had never liked Kevin.

She ignored him and continued, "And then it will ruin their Christmases."

He froze in place. "Baby…is that why you haven't been yourself lately? Because of Lynch?"

"No, sweetheart," she said, and then amended it with, "Well, maybe a little. It's a lot of things. Christmas doesn't feel like Christmas this year to me."

"Well, Lynch didn't make your Christmas, momma—he made it worse," he countered. "He added stress every year for you with his family plans and complaining and all around Scroogery."

She couldn't counter that. He was right. Kevin was miserable around Christmas every year. He had an inborn stinginess that came to the forefront, and he lacked spirit and fun. She began reaching into the box again, went to hang an ornament, and admitted her findings. "Yes, you're right. It's not just that, though. Other things happened—"

"Like what?" he asked, stepping in front of her.

She hung the snowflake ornament on a button on his shirt. "Nothing you need to worry yourself about, baby boy."

Before she could step away, he put both hands on her shoulders and said, "Sometimes, Christmas is what you make of it. Don't let anything or anyone rob you of your joy, sweetheart." He caressed her cheek with his fingertips. "Okay?"

She sighed and nodded, thinking_, Easier said than done…_

* * *

><p>An hour later, they were all in a merry swing, stringing popcorn and decorating every nook and cranny. Even people from the tech pool stopped by to lend a hand in the festivities.<p>

Penelope was still in her corner of the world with Derek. They were about to hang a wreath on a door, when Rossi called out, "Mistletoe!"

JJ groaned. "Dave, you weren't supposed to put that out! What would Strauss say?"

"It's opposite of the way she comes in," Dave said. "She'll never see it."

"What if she turns and sees it?" Emily asked.

"I got that figured out then, too," Dave said with a wicked grin. "If she looks, I'll kiss her under it so she _can't _say anything."

"Eww!" Prentiss said, whacking his arm. "That's Strauss you're talking about!"

"Speaking of kissing...you're under it, guys," Reid said, pointing over Morgan's and Garcia's head. "Kissing under the mistletoe dates back to early Roman history, and..."

Reid's voice drifted off as Penelope glanced at Morgan. Her heart began to beat faster as she locked her gaze with his dark chocolate eyes, and warmth swept over her entire body, along with the thrill of anticipation. For as long as she could remember, she'd wondered what it would be like to kiss Derek Morgan, albeit not in front of a crowd, but for her the crowd seemed to disappear. He had the most beautifully kissable lips; she'd dreamed about kissing them far more than she should've.

Derek glanced over a Reid and rolled his eyes. "Hush, kid. We know what to do."

The anticipation grew andher breath caught in her throat...maybe..maybe...

Derek reached for her, put his hands on her shoulders…and then kissed her forehead. "There."

Penelope's heart sank. So there went _that _stupid dream...

"That is not a mistletoe kiss," Dave remarked, like he was postively disgusted. He sauntered over to where they stood, and then pushed Derek out of the way with a shake of his swarthy head. "_This _is a mistletoe kiss."

One second, she was standing there; the next, she was bent over Dave's arm and his firm mouth was on hers. She could feel the hint of a smile on his lips with said kiss, and she went along with it. It was a downright nice kiss, his mustache and his goatee tickling her. He tasted like peppermint and smelled like expensive cologne. One thing was for sure—David Rossi knew how to kiss.

Too bad she wasn't the least bit attracted to him.

When he raised her to her feet, everyone was laughing and smiling. Except Derek…she couldn't find him anywhere.

"Now, who's next?" Rossi asked.

"Ah…Morgan is standing right there," Reid said with a very cheeky grin.

She turned to see Derek stepping away from where he'd been standing behind them. "Hell, no. You need to keep your fuckin' lips to yourself."

Rossi chuckled and gave Derek a look that caused Derek to scowl even more. A second later, Dave leaned in and whispered near her ear, "Thanks for the kiss, kitten."

She was still a little in shock. She hadn't expected to ever kiss Rossi! "You're w-welcome."

He kissed her cheek, and then winked at her. From the look on Dave's face, she knew he'd done it for some specific reason…but what, she didn't know. Her thoughts were interrupted by Derek, who reached for her arm.

"C'mon, baby," he growled. "We got ornaments to hang."

* * *

><p>It was the end of the day, and most everyone had left, except for Penelope and Derek. They were almost done with the tinsel; now that she was in the Yule mood, she wanted to get the decorating completed.<p>

Penelope started searching boxes again, in case there was something she'd missed, and she found a snow globe. That was new, something she hadn't seen in there before. She saw a tag on it then: _To __Penelope. From__Santa_. She'd forgotten it was Secret Santa day.

Lifting it out of the box, she noticed it had a pretty Victorian Christmas scene in it, with kids skating on a pond. She paused to shake it lightly, watching the falling snow with avid eyes. It looked so beautiful, so peaceful.

She felt Derek's arms wrap around her from behind. "What are you looking at?"

"Santa gave me a present."

"Hmm…what's that?" he asked, his breath ruffling the hair by her ear.

The low timbre of his voice caused goose pimples to rise on her arms. His voice was buttery, rich and deep. It was one of the many things that added to the perfection that was Derek Morgan and made him even more out of reach.

Still, she leaned back against him and sighed. "I've always wanted to see snow like this. I've dreamed of skating like this, and then falling into snow banks and making snow angels." She turned in his arms and said, "I've never made snow angels."

He stared at the snow globe, like he was mesmerized by it, too. "Chicago has no shortage of snow. My sisters and I used to make them all the time when I was a kid."

She made a soft sound of agreement. "Must've been nice. Too bad Virginia isn't known for it's snow."

He met her eyes and held them for a long time. She could tell he was thinking hard. Then he smiled at her brilliantly. "Stay right there for a minute, Baby Girl."

He disappeared down a hallway, and then came back with a big box. Immediately, he poured out a ton of packing peanuts, making them coat the ground.

She giggled. "What on earth is that for?"

"Snow angels." Sitting down in the middle of them, he reached up for her hand. "Come on down."

"People are going to think we're crazy," she said, but plopped next to him anyway. She looked at him. "What now?"

"Move your arms and legs like this," he instructed, laying back and sweeping his arms and legs up and down.

Penelope followed suit, feeling the packing peanuts scatter from under her. "This is insane!" she said, laughing again.

"This is the hard part—standing up," he said, as he rolled carefully to his feet, and then reached for her hands and practically lifted Penelope to hers.

When she looked back, there were two perfect angel impressions in the packing peanuts. She smiled over at him. "Awww…my first snow angel."

"She's beautiful," he said. The warmth in his twinkling eyes set her heart aflutter yet again. "Not as pretty as you, but…"

Leaning against his arm, she absorbed the compliment and his warmth. "Thanks, Hot Stuff."

"No problem." He kissed the top of her head. "I wish I could make all of your dreams come true."

Penelope's heart skipped a beat. That was already mostly true; Derek always made her so very happy. She wished that they…oh, she wished…

And then she remembered the mistletoe and the chaste kiss. No reason to be fanciful, even if it was the holidays.

She stepped away from him. "Ummm...I'd better clean this up."

"I got it, baby," he said, bending to scoop up peanuts. "You head home."

"I'll help."

"Penelope," Derek growled in exasperation. "I made the mess."

"It's my mess, too," she insisted. She put her foot down when she had to with him. "I insist on helping."

"Fine," he replied, "but only if we go for dinner after."

She smiled at him. "That's a deal."

Between the two of them, they made short work of the packing peanuts.


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: Thanks so much for the reviews...Hope Ash (lovemethatsallIaskofyou)and everyone else are enjoying this!..._

**Chapter 4**

The crowd at Alberto's Italian Eatery was busy as usual on Wednesday night. It was a favorite spot for Italian in town for both take out and eat in. Their Chicago-style deep dish pizza was award winning and pretty authentic—or at least Derek thought so.

He watched as Penelope cut a slice of the thick center of her slice full of toppings with her knife and fork. This was not a pizza one could pick up and nosh. He could smell the robust tomato and fresh basil aroma drawing him to his own slice.

"Mmmm, tasty," she proclaimed.

"Like always," he said, taking a rather massive bite of his own.

"So, what did your Secret Santa get you today?" she asked behind her hand, because she was still chewing on her slice of pizza.

He loved that she felt so comfortable around him that she could really eat. He'd been on so many dates with women that nibbled on slices and wouldn't dream of saying a word with food in their mouth. It made him uncomfortable to let loose and talk the way he did at home with his family. Those same women usually ate no more than a mouse would eat also, and then proclaimed they were too full for dessert afterward.

Bullshit...those women were starving!

It wasn't like that with Penelope. His girl kept it real and didn't play those games with him. She ate with gusto and fed him pieces from her plate. She was earthy and exciting, and made him feel that way, too.

Then again, this wasn't a date, no matter how badly he wanted it to be. However, going out with her was the thing he'd most looked forward to the past few days. In fact, everything he did with her was something he anticipated greatly.

For the past seven years, Derek Morgan had carried a torch for his best friend. Everyone knew it—even his own mother. It was almost embarrassing how much he hung the moon on the girl eating her pizza across from him...and how she thought of him as just a friend.

"Reindeer socks," he answered after swallowing the pizza and the plain truth. Both went down pretty hard and sat like a lump in his stomach. "They had a red-nosed one on the ankle."

"Rudolph! That's my nephew Tommy's favorite Christmas cartoon," she said, and then her smile faded for a brief moment. He could tell she was trying to hide that lack of smile and had probably hoped he hadn't seen it.

Unfortunately, she was dining with an observant profiler—he usually couldn't read her too well, to be honest, though! Nevertheless, he'd known something more was up earlier today.

"Baby…what's wrong?" he asked again. He didn't like having to pry. He was a private man; he liked when his privacy was respected and respected others', but when it came to his baby girl, he made an exception to that rule. He never liked seeing her unhappy.

She smiled wistfully at him. "You're going to find out anyway, aren't you?"

He tapped her nose. "That's why I'm such a fantastic profiler."

She nodded in agreement. "You are," she said, and then continued, "Peter called. I'm not going home this year, and I'm a little blue about it."

"Oh, sweetheart—"

"No, D, it's okay," she said putting her hand up to halt any pity he might have had. "It's no big deal. I'm visiting in the summer."

"Are you going somewhere else, then?" he asked. He felt miserable for her; he knew she enjoyed going home as much as he did. Penelope was usually so festive and spirited about all holidays, not just Christmas. She was joyous year round.

"No need to worry your gorgeous head about it, my decadent fudge cake," she said, like she wanted to alleviate any anxiety he might be feeling. "I shall be fine here."

"Baby Girl—"

"Derek, stop," she said, putting her hand on his mouth. "I'm good; really, I am."

From the look in her eyes, he knew that wasn't true. However, he had to think before he pried again.

"Going to see Fran and your sisters?" Penelope asked, before taking another bite of her pizza.

"Every year," he answered with a warm smile just thinking about it. His sisters' children, his aunts and uncles, his momma's spiced eggnog...all things he adored. "Momma would skin me alive if I didn't come home on the holidays."

Penelope smiled. "She would, wouldn't she?"

It hit him then exactly what he should do...

"She'd love it if you came, too, sweetheart," he said, holding her hand and giving it a squeeze. "Why don't you come with?"

She shook her head adamantly. "Goodness, no. I'm not hosing in on your family's celebration."

"Nonsense," he said firmly. "My family loves you, and—"

Penelope tugged her hand away. "D, I said no." She took a deep breath, and then let it out. "It would be different if we were a couple, but we're not. I'm not going and giving them wrong ideas."

_If we were a couple_...

"Would that be such a bad thing?" he asked softly. He hated that he couldn't tell what she was thinking. He could gauge criminals and witnesses, the way they thought, their innermost secrets, and yet when he stared into those big blue eyes across from him, he came up blank. So many times, he'd wanted to go for it, but—

She gave a sad little laugh. "Yes! It's bad enough half of the FBI thinks we're a couple, but your family..." She paused and stared at him. "D, are you okay? You look kind of green."

"I didn't mean—" he began, and then shook his head. He was going to tell her he didn't mean that part, but she'd dismissed the more important question so quickly, she obviously considered it a non-factor.

She reached for his hand this time. "Derek...tell me."

Not today. Not now. Not before Christmas. No man wanted to be shot down, or even worse, pitied by her—he had his pride, too—before Christmas.

"Never mind," he said flatly. "It's not important."

She gave him a wary look. "Okay..."

He couldn't stop staring at her, watching the sweet note of concern in her expression, the way her eyes twinkled behind her colorful frames, the curve of her lips. He wished...

"Hot Stuff?" she asked, biting her bottom lip.

Damn...how long had he been staring?

"Wait a minute." He reached a hand out and cupped her cheek, and then brought his napkin up. "You have sauce right…there."

"Thanks," she said, blushing with embarrassment as he dabbed away at what was an imaginary spot of sauce.

* * *

><p>"Baby, you have your bags all packed?"<p>

Derek sighed. His mother was ridiculous sometimes when he was talking to her. "I'm not leaving for four days yet."

"Nothing wrong with being prepared," she said, her excitement sounding like the polar opposite of what he was feeling right now.

He'd just gotten home from dinner with Penelope, and he was still grumbling internally. There really was no reason to be down. It was what it was, and he needed to accept it and move on. He must be a damn fool who liked to be miserable, and—

"Sweetie, you don't sound right. What's the matter?"

Stiffening, he looked at his phone for a moment in surprise. His mother could've worked for the FBI in profiling; she picked up the most gentle nuances in tone. He hadn't said anything different in their conversation than he normally would.

"Nothing, Momma."

"Derek, don't lie to me," Fran said sternly. "What is wrong?"

He sighed, knowing he wasn't going to win this battle. "I feel bad because Penelope is stuck here over the holidays."

"Your baby girl?"

He smiled at the happy tone his mother had. "Yeah, Momma."

"Bring her with," she said easily. "We've always got room, and I am sure Desiree and Sarah would love to see her again."

"She won't come."

"Did you ask her?"

He sighed heavily. "Yes, Momma. I asked her. She said no. She didn't want to intrude."

Fran harrumphed. "Well, you didn't ask the right way, then, did you, Derek?"

Speaking of prying...his mother was the kind that pried into his business all the time and was a notorious matchmaker. She'd guessed he was in love with Penelope far earlier than he'd even known. It was so awful, when he'd gone home, his sisters had asked if he'd told her he loved her.

"All the time," he'd said honestly.

At first, they'd given him a look of utter shock—they knew that tough guys like him didn't tell people they loved them frivolously—and then they'd given him looks of solace and sympathy.

He'd clammed up at any kind of intervention ever since then.

"Momma, I asked her. She said no. End of story."

"Sweetheart, you need to tell Penelope how you feel!"

"I did."

"Do it again!" she ordered. "Make her listen."

Derek cringed at the words. He'd come so close, so many times, to removing any misconceptions she'd had, and yet, he'd chickened out. He was afraid of losing their friendship, afraid of her rejection, afraid he'd have to face the world without her in at least some capacity.

"Baby," Fran started softly, "I know you. I know what's in your heart when it comes to that girl. She moves you like no other. If you let her know that—in words like that—there's no way she'd resist you."

"Momma," he began, trying to divert her one track train of thought, "you just want to see everyone married."

"I do" she said, "but more than that, baby, I want to see you happy. You _deserve_ it. Take a risk, Derek. Isn't she worth it?"

"She is, but—"

"No buts about it," Fran interjected quickly. "I raised a brave FBI man who goes after what he wants when the odds are stacked against him. Give yourself the best Christmas present you ever had and go for it. You'll never know until you try."

Before he could say a word, she said, "I love you, son, and I'll see you _both_ this Christmas."

And then he heard nothing but a dial tone...and the rapid beating of his heart.


	5. Chapter 5

_AN: Thank you so much for the reviews!...It is official...LoveMeThat'sAllIAskofYou requested an M finale for this story. I think it going to take me two chapters to get them where I want them to be for that, so we'll be done in seven chapters instead of six. Sorry for the extra!..._

**Chapter 5**

It was Friday, the day of the largest party and the reveal for their _Secret Santas _at the BAU. The entire unit treated the day as a fun day—no serious work, just catch up and complete until the party started at noon. The smell of spicy gingerbread, sweet warm cider, and fresh pine drifted throughout the hallways and into Penelope's lair.

She saw the wrapped gift she'd gotten Reid last night sitting on her desk. She'd replaced his purple scarf that he favored. It was the exact same color, but this one was made of cashmere. She couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he opened it. He'd look so handsome in it, and he would be warm and toasty, too.

Thinking about Reid's gift got her thinking of her own gift she was going to receive, and excitement filled her. Whatever it was, it was going to be wonderful. She was grateful, because that person, and Derek, had gotten her into the holiday mood. He'd been right; the holiday was what she made of it. Being a Grinch was not in her nature.

On her desk was the snow globe she'd received from her _Santa_. That little present seemed to hold dreams, fantasies, and wishes, just the same as it held snow inside. She thought about all the time she'd spent with Derek—her biggest fantasy of all—and how happy he'd made her feel.

Even though she was in a festive mood, something was bothering her. After dinner last Wednesday, Derek had walked her to her car and given her his usual hug.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he'd said, and then kissed her forehead like usual.

As he'd held her, he'd lingered, like he'd been thinking of a million things, and none of them were things he'd wanted to say at the moment. She thought about their dinner conversation, and when he'd said he didn't mean that part...That must've been about lying to his family...That had only left the other part to consider…

Being a couple.

"_Would that be so bad?"_

Penelope's stomach tied into a knot. She'd made foolish assumptions earlier that day about him...was she thinking fanciful thoughts about him again? She'd been there before, and she didn't know if her heart could take it, and—

"PG!" Emily called from her doorway. "Get your butt out here. We have presents to unwrap. I want to see what Rossi got me."

Any further thought would have to wait until later. She smiled at Prentiss and quirked a brow over her rose colored frames. "Rossi, you think, huh?"

"That's my _Santa_, I'm sure of it," Em answered, a pleased grin on her face. "I got two Italian-themed items that screamed Rossi to me already—a bottle of aged balsamic and a box of dark chocolates with hints of espresso."

Pen nodded. Dave gave expensive, albeit one track, presents. He loved to get everyone into the _Italian_ spirit of Christmas. "You got Rossi for sure."

"Got any clue who yours is yet?"

Shaking her head, she said, "No. Not really." She poked Emily in the arm. "Not you, I know now!"

Prentiss laughed. "No, I'm not it. I got Morgan, the man who has everything he wants in his life already…except you, of course."

Penelope glanced over at Emily with surprise. She'd said that so nonchalantly, like it was an everyday discussion, instead of a strange revelation. She decided to take it as a tease. "Silly Emmy...That sweet cup of hot chocolate has always had me."

"He does, hmm?" The slight air of disbelief in Em's voice caused tingles to run up and down Penelope's spine. Derek was supposed to be her best friend...What did Em know that she didn't?

"Of course."

"Garcie." Prentiss held onto her arm and stopped her. "Now that you are done with Lynch—and no, no one told me about that. I've got eyes, you know—have you looked at Derek? _Really _looked at him?"

"I have, and—"

"I'm going out on a limb, here," she interrupted quickly, looking highly uncomfortable. "I usually don't get involved in other people's personal business, but I care a lot about both of you."

"We know that."

"I think you are both making a huge mistake if you don't explore what is between you," Prentiss blurted.

Good Lord, was she that transparent? She began to flush, and explained lamely, "Em, we're just friends."

Prentiss rolled her eyes and huffed in frustration. "Take a risk, Penelope. It's written all over your face that you want to." She nodded, indicating that was her final word. "I'm done. Now excuse me, I've got a pasta press to open…"

Penelope watched her walk away, wondering when Prentiss had grown Angel wings. She followed slowly, still contemplating everything she'd been thinking about today. Was it some kind of Christmas miracle, drawing her and Derek together?

The music over the intercom system was playing carols, and the lights were flickering, giving a magical glow to the bullpen. It hardly looked like the same place. Penelope was seeing it with different eyes, and a different appreciation, since she hadn't been the one to do it all this year.

Everyone was standing around the Christmas tree, including her Hot Stuff. He was dressed in a soft looking white sweater that accented the mocha hues to his skin perfectly. She'd bought it for him last year, knowing he'd look that gorgeous in it.

"Garcie, open this one first," JJ said, handing her a present.

The small, gold-wrapped gift had a large green bow on it, and a tag that said, _To Penelope, From All of Us._

Opening the present, she pulled out a music box. It was a beautiful angel, holding a shimmering star. She pressed a small button, and the star glittered, as the song _Silent Night_ played. Another tag was attached.

_To Penelope, our beacon toward home. Thanks for all that you do to make every season bright._

Penelope's heart swelled in her chest. She'd been so cranky toward all of them, especially JJ, and they'd done this for her. A gift of love, with nothing asked for in return...like God's unparalleled Gift to the world.

She'd had it so wrong this year. Christmas wasn't about how much she got and what accolades and appreciation she received for what she did; it was about giving and love and the true peace found with family...however that word was defined.

"Oh, guys," she whispered, looking up at all of them with tears in her eyes. "You're my shining stars, too."

JJ slipped her arms around her and gave her a big hug. "Merry Christmas, Garcie." She pulled back and smiled softly. "As Henry's Godmother and my best friend, you are part of our family, and you will always—_always—_be welcome to our home. Coming for Christmas?"

Penelope could feel her chin quivering. She was going cry. "Thanks, Jayje…"

"Wait," Derek said quickly, stepping close to Penelope. He reached with one hand and dragged her a few feet away from everyone else. "Before you say anything, open this first."

_This_ was an enormous box, wrapped nowhere near as neatly in cute paper adorned with ice skating polar bears wearing Santa hats. A huge bow was perched rather haphazardly on the top. As she looked at her present, she noticed that others had started unwrapping their presents, too.

Smiling, she wiped her teary eyes and reached for the box. "Wrapped it yourself, Hot Stuff?"

"That's _Santa_ to you, Baby Girl," he replied.

"Aww!" she gushed. "You're my Secret Santa!"

"I overheard you talking to JJ a few weeks ago. I begged her for this job," he murmured softly, reaching up tuck a blonde curl behind her ear. His long, rough fingers felt good against her flushed cheek as he moved his hand away. "I wanted to help bring you nothing but love, joy, and happiness this Christmas, like you always do for me."

She smiled at him, her heart nearly bursting in her chest from the amount of love she felt. "Thank you, angelfish."

"Open it," he said, touching the box.

Penelope drew the ribbon and removed it, and then started with the wrapping paper. As she started breaking the tape, her excitement rose to a fever pitch. Gleefully, she opened the box…

And found it empty.

She looked up at him in confusion, and then her heart began to race. Derek was watching her with such a warm, tender expression on his face, there was no way she could mistake it for anything else but what it was…love.

He took the box away from her and put it down. "Penelope…I can't fit what I want to give you in that box," he whispered softly, his heart in his dark chocolate eyes. "Baby, I've been in love with you for as long as I've known you…even longer, if that's possible. I think I was born to love you. I want to give you something you already have...Me, all my hopes and dreams, my past and my future.

"Do you know what tops my Christmas list, angel? That you say yes and come meet see my family again…as my girl." He reached into his pocket and held out two plane ticket vouchers. "Can you do that for me, Baby Girl?"

She nodded, tears streaming down her face. "Yes!" She needed to share, too. "Derek, I love you, too."

His smile was brilliant, and then he tucked the tickets away again, before enveloping her in his embrace. "Thank you, baby. You just made this the best Christmas I can ever remember."

"Mine, too," she murmured.

His radiant smile remained as he stepped back and held her hands. "You know why I dragged you over here?"

"Because it's private and away from everyone else?" she guessed.

He shook his head and chuckled. "Look up."

Above them hung the mistletoe.

Penelope laughed. "Felt like you were missing out, huh?"

"Hell, yes," he whispered, cupping her face with his hands, before bringing his lips down on hers.

What a difference! Kissing Rossi and kissing Derek was like night and day. Both were skilled at the art of kissing, but the moment Derek's mouth touched hers, a coursing of electric tingles raced down her spine and her breath caught in her throat. It was momentous, it was glorious, and it was everything she'd ever dreamed a kiss should be.

Derek held her against him, pressing his hands on her back, melding her body against his as his lips coaxed hers apart. She dug her fingers into the soft white sweater and clung to him as his tongue made a brief foray into her mouth with a sweet brush against her own. Everything became a blur; nothing was there except Derek and the incredible emotions he made her feel. There was want, need, and so much love; he gave them all to her, and she returned them freely...as it should be in a Christmas kiss.

When they finally broke apart, she could hear a few whistles and cheers. She opened her eyes to see the rest of the team smiling and laughing.

"That's the way to do it!" Rossi exclaimed, no small amount of pride in his voice. "I knew you had it in you, kid."

Derek shook his head and wrapped his arm around Penelope. "Quit embarrassing me in front of my girl."

"I guess my invitation is being declined?" JJ asked, a knowing smile on her face.

Penelope nodded and winked at her friend. "Sorry, Jayje."

"Come on, people," Hotch called out with mock seriousness. "We have three more gifts to open and countless more punch to drink before we can call it a day."

Penelope sighed dramatically and looked up at Derek. "Duty's calling. Let's go."

He kissed her again and said, "Yes, ma'am," before they joined in the revelry again.


	6. Chapter 6

_AN: Thank you so much for the reviews! Now we have some time with the Morgans...and the beginning of something new (Lord, I had fun with this!)..._

**Chapter 6**

"Who wants more eggnog?"

Giggling, Penelope held up her cup. Her head was slightly spinning, and she was sure she had flushed cheeks. Fran Morgan made the most potent eggnog she'd ever had in her life, but it was absolutely delicious. She'd never been a fan of eggnog before, but now, she was a certified aficonado.

"Easy, baby," Derek whispered in her ear, "or I'm gonna have to carry you to bed tonight."

"And have your wicked way with me?" she teased, turning her face to give him a coy look.

Derek's answering groan made her smile, although she should be groaning, too. After that first kiss at the BAU—was that really only yesterday?—multiple other kisses had been given and shared, and the heat between them had risen to a fever pitch. Now, with Derek in the same room...it was going to be a long five days!

It was their second night in Chicago—Christmas Eve. Derek's sisters, their husbands, and their combined five kids were in the small house, too, packing the home to capacity. Penelope was sharing Derek's old room with him. He'd had a full bed in there, but he'd slept on the floor last night.

Considering they'd been dating only a few hours, that seemed rather appropriate!

Momma Morgan was ready to keep them there the whole time, despite the squished accomodations.

"We'll make room!" she'd cheered happily.

Fran Morgan was obviously in her glory.

Momma didn't believe in doing anything in half-measures. "If you are going to do something, you should do it big and do it right." That included Christmas decorating. She had red and white Christmas stockings on the fireplace for everyone. Each stocking had an embroidered name on it, and there was even one that said _Penelope_ on it. How Fran had gotten that done in less than twenty-four hours was a miracle in itself.

There was a big, delightful-smelling Christmas tree in the corner. It had branches dripping with ornaments, including ones that Derek, Desiree, and Sarah had made as children. It was very tall, so much so that it struggled against the lower, 1970's style ceilings in the home. On the top of the tree was an angel...a male one.

"That's Michael," Fran had explained, tears in her eyes.

Whether she meant the Archangel or Derek's father—also named Michael—Penelope did not know for sure. He was beautiful either way, and she did not want to question further.

It had been a full day since they'd arrived last night, and Penelope felt like part of the family already. The kids were tucked snug in their beds to await the arrival of Santa, and the adults were enjoying some drinks and some good old fashioned family laughter and teasing.

"Let the girl drink the eggnog, Derek," Sarah admonished with a laugh, giving Derek a wink.

"No, I think Derek is the one that needs that liquid courage," Desiree added with a smile of her own.

Derek glared at them, but not seriously. "Hush, you two."

"I think she's on to something," Sarah remarked with a knowing look. "Considering how long it took you to get her here..."

"Hey!" he said, while Desiree and Sarah giggled and high fived each other.

"Oh, come on, now, D," Desiree said. "You teased us with everyone we ever brought home, including Mark and Alfonso."

"And we've only heard Baby Girl this, Baby Girl that for the past seven years," Sarah added with a perfectly arched brow. Must've been a Morgan trait...

Listening to his sisters, she was certain they were teasing. Had she been that blind for that long? Penelope gave a quick glance at Derek...and watched as he _blushed_. Lord, it was true!

"I got her now," he said. He folded her closer into his arms, careful not to spill her eggnog, and kissed her again. "That's all that counts."

She snuggled in closer and thought, _To quote __him..._ _Hell__, yes_.

"Girls, leave your brother alone," Fran said, taking a seat in the easy chair by the fire. "You always did like to gang up on him."

"Took two of them to bring me down," Derek said with a smirk. "Only one didn't have enough brain power."

"Hey!" Sarah and Desiree said in chorus.

"Are they always like this?" Penelope asked Mark, Sarah's husband, who was sitting in the chair next to the loveseat she was sharing with Derek.

"Yes," he answered. "Notice that Alfonso and I have been silent."

Alfonso gave her a nod with a grave look. "Learn from us; don't get involved."

Desiree slapped her husband's knee playfully. "Quit scaring the newest member of our family."

Penelope giggled. Having four brothers of her own, she was very used to this kind of bickering and teasing. It was the sign of a very loving family, and she was proud to be allowed to observe. However, more than that, what Desiree had said was true—she did feel like she belonged there, like she was the newest member.

"Besides," Sarah said with a wink, "she's a girl. She'd be on our side."

Fran yawned hugely. "Oh, dear. The day is catching up with me."

"It should be," Penelope said. After all of the cooking and decorating that the amazing red-haired woman had done, Penelope was surprised that Fran wasn't sleeping hours ago.

"We should be turning in, too," Sarah said, reaching for Mark's hand. "The girls will be up before we know it, and they'll be bounding in to see us to show us what Santa brought."

"Oh, yes, that's true," Desiree added. "I know our three are going to be making a huge noise in the wee hours."

Penelope yawned, too. It had been a long flight and a long day. "I suppose we should turn in, too."

"Oh, no," Derek said, taking her cup from her. "Not us."

She frowned at him in confusion. "What—"

"It's my other present for you." He smiled and stood, and then helped her up to her feet. He looked over at Mark. "Is it ready?"

He tossed keys over to Derek. "It's ready."

"Thanks, man."

"You'll be back in the morning?" Fran asked.

Derek drew his mother into his arms and gave her a hug. "In time for brunch, Momma."

"Have fun," Sarah said as Mark put his arm around her. "You'll love it."

"Love what?" Penelope asked, her curiosity and excitement peaking.

Derek pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly. "You'll see. Let's go."

* * *

><p>Penelope's interest was piqued as they drove through downtown Chicago in Mark's Land Rover. Considering it was ten pm on Christmas Eve, the roads were suitably empty, a rarity in the Chicagoland area.<p>

It was starting to snow again, too. Just a light dusting that barely coated the ground and gave the world surrounding them a winter wonderland appearance.

Penelope was curious but sleepy, too. She had a feeling they were heading to a hotel, which wasn't really anything that spectacular, but she was grateful. She wanted to be able to sleep in. Also, she felt kind of guilty making Derek take the floor.

They pulled into the valet parking in front of a hotel just outside of downtown. It made sense to let the valet park the car; parking in Chicago was rather obscene. As the bellhop unloaded the bags—when had he packed the car?—Derek put an arm around her and they entered the hotel.

The grand lobby of the hotel had a huge, decorated Christmas tree that reached the vaulted ceilings, nestled into the corner of a curving stairwell. The banister of the stairwell had garland wrapped around it, with ornaments and sparkling tinsel, and ribbon that matched the dark red carpeting that covered the marble stairs.

"Ooh," she breathlessly said. She was truly speechless. It was like something out of a storybook: rich, elegant and palatial.

Derek, her fairytale prince, smiled brilliantly at her. "Come on, sweetheart."

Taking her by the hand, they bypassed the reception desk and headed straight up the stairs to a set of glass elevators. Penelope followed him inside where they took a ride up to the top floor. He held her while they watched out the glass doors, seeing the massive tree and decorations sparkling the entire time upward.

"I wonder how they got it in here?" she asked.

He chuckled. "Miss Practical. All the things you could say, and you mention that."

She blushed just a bit. "Well..."

The doors opened, stopping her from explaining, and he took her hand again and led her down the corridor. They stopped in front of one of the suites; he opened the door with a keycard he'd already had in his pocket.

"Oh, Derek..." she whispered.

The room had an ethereal glow from a Christmas tree that was lit in the room. There was a bottle of red wine resting in ice, already open to breathe, and two glasses waiting for them. The bedroom door was cracked open, and she could see their bags inside, illuminated by a fireplace glow.

Penelope felt Derek slide his arms around her, holding her from behind.

"Do you like it?" he murmured, his breath ruffling her hair.

She turned in his arms and stared in amazement. "How did you manage this?"

"I have elves," he teased, and kissed the tip of her nose.

"I think you do," she whispered, looking around the room. There were even presents under the tree.

He smiled softly at her. "I'll tell you more soon, but I know you're tired. You can take the shower first, and I'll get the couch ready here. I can-"

"First of all," she said, pressing her hand against his mouth to stop him from talking, "I am no longer tired. How could I be after this?"

She could feel his smile growing against her palm. "Baby-"

"Second of all," she interrupted again, "you do not need to sleep on the couch. There is plenty of room for both of us in that big bed."

Derek's eyes heated to molten chocolate; he kissed her palm, and then held her hand away for a moment. "Sweet angel girl, I do not trust myself in that bed with you."

To emphasize his point, he drew her hand back and teased it with a lash of his tongue.

Ripples of awareness, of pure, decadent want rolled over Penelope. The intensity in his gaze reflected perfectly the urgency she felt inside. The heat in the room multiplied infinitely, seven years of wanting personified, as she stepped closer to him and looped her arms around his neck. Both of them breathed harshly, their breaths mingling and combining in a humid wash of desire as they anticipated what was to come.

She cupped her face in his hands, the new stubble on his cheeks scraping against her palms. "Like I said...you do not need to sleep on the couch."


	7. Chapter 7

_AN: Thanks so much for all the reviews, favorites, and alerts for this story. This is one spicy ending, written per request for LoveMeThatsAllIAskofYou. I hope you—and everyone else reading—enjoys. _

_With that, I wish you all a very merry Christmas, my sweet Fanfiction Friends! _

_All my love, _

_KricketWilliams_

**Chapter 7**

**Warning: Strong Sexual Content**

Penelope watched as understanding lit Derek's eyes. A bone deep, sizzling hunger was brewing in his eyes, so obvious it caused her to catch her breath. There was no brilliant smile, no teasing smirk, nothing that could be misconstrued or changed by her thinking. He was stripped raw, showing her bare lust, and it was a beautiful, thrilling thing.

"Oh angel," he whispered, pulling her closer into his embrace, "you just made me an incredibly happy man."

Sooner than she could respond, he brought his mouth down to hers, brushing his lips slowly, sensuously across them. The soft but firm texture of his lips and the hint of spicy nutmeg and heady rum on his breath sent shivers of awareness down her spine. She closed her eyes as he fitted his mouth to hers and began to truly kiss her.

Heat wafted over her that was far more intense than that from the fireplace. She opened her mouth to the gentle insistence of his tongue and gave as good as she got, tasting, delving, delighting in him. She really loved kissing him—had waited far, far too long to actually get into this.

He was by far the best kisser she had ever encountered. He kissed with sublime skill. There was no doubt, Derek was an expert, and sometimes, she felt jealous of the lucky women who had kissed him before. However, that jealousy went quickly when she reaped the rewards of his experience so greatly.

With that skill was enthusiasm, an excitement she could taste on his lips and feel in his touch. She knew he couldn't wait to have more of her, to do more of everything with her. He held her deftly, firmly, massaging with his hands and coaxing her.

It felt really, really good to be wanted!

As the kissing continued, her impatience rose. She was still wearing her jacket and her shoes, and he was also fully dressed. She wanted him ready, naked, and preferably on his back. That want was not one sided; she had just as much want and need inside of her, too. Lowering her hands to her chest, she began to unbutton her coat.

He paused in kissing her. "Oh, no," he said, holding her hands prisoner in his warm grasp. "I get to unwrap my gift."

She shot him a pointed looked. "Excuse me, _mon choclat sucre_…but I believe you stated _you_ were _my_ gift." Tugging her hand away, she raised it to his jacket zipper and held the fob between her fingers. "If there is any unwrapping done, it will be by me."

Derek smiled a wolfish grin at her and lowered his arms to his sides. "Do your worst, Baby Girl."

"_Au contraire_," she purred as she drew the zipper down. "I'm always at my best…"

"Oh, hell, yes," he groaned as she pushed the jacket off of his shoulders and let it fall to the ground, and then let her hands run over the bracing of muscle she could feel through the fine fabric of his shirt.

Her fingers were shaking by the time she made it to the buttons on his shirt. For seven years, she'd dreamed of touching him like this. She'd slathered suntan lotion on his back, felt the hills and valleys of his muscles there, and had questioned the appropriateness of her thoughts at that time. However, this was so much more intimate. Seeing his hooded eyes as he watched her slip her fingers into his shirt, watching the peaking of his flat brown nipples when she brushed her fingertips over them, and the way he sucked in his air when she trailed over his sculpted abs made it an experience she would never forget.

Tugging the shirt out of his waistband, she pulled it quickly off of his upper body to join his coat on the floor. Holy cow…he was gorgeous. Bathed in the glow of the firelight, his naked chest and arms were sculpted perfection, and the mocha hues in his skin burnished deeper, darker. She glanced at his pants. Soon…

She closed her eyes to regain her strength. She was breathing heavy, and the warmth and wetness was pooling between her legs. She was so turned on already, she thought she would die without him. She licked her suddenly dry lips and raised her gaze to meet his.

His expression was filled with tenderness and passion as he cupped her cheek in his hand and brushed his thumb over her cheekbone. "Don't quit on me now, sweetheart…"

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and gave him a devilish grin that was probably at odds with her flushed cheeks. He always told her that's what he loved about her: naughty and nice, sugar and spice. There was no way she was going to quit, but first…

"Just a second," she said, and shrugged out of her jacket and heels. "I was overdressed."

"Yes, you were. Now keep going." He made a gesture of continuation with his hands and watched her aptly.

She giggled. "No, no…You first."

Penelope heard him gasp as she dropped to her knees and reached toward his lean waist. She undid his buckle for his low slung belt, and then went for his zipper, brushing her fingers against thick hardness under the fly. Curling her fingers around him, she traced his length through the denim, feeling how it curving upward and...

Her fingers faltered again. Oh, my...that was…_mercy_...

"You are killing me here, baby," he murmured, the urgency apparent in his voice.

Penelope drew down the zipper, opened the button, and then tugged down his jeans. The thickness between his legs strained against his boxer briefs; she cupped him, lifting the heavy weight, and heard a ragged breath from him.

She glanced up at him. His face was set in a rigid expression, his eyes darkened to nearly black and his nostrils flared. He was intently focused on her hands, and sweat was beading on the bridge of his nose. She noticed, too, that he was trembling like she was.

"Quite the present you got there, Hot Stuff," she teased, because if she didn't, she just wouldn't be her.

At his answering growl, she had to agree with him. Enough teasing. Hooking her fingers around the waist of his boxers, she tugged them down, and his erection sprang free, jutting out at her.

She didn't even get her fingers on him; he kicked his clothes out of the way. Bending forward, he put his hands under her arms and tugged her effortlessly to her feet, like she didn't weigh a pound. She hadn't a clue how he'd undone the fastenings, but a second later, her dress was gone, leaving her in only her bra and tights.

He scooped her up in his arms. "How many?" he growled, taking a stride toward the bed.

"How..." she questioned, and then figured it out. He was talking orgasms. "Two, please."

Sitting her on the edge of the big bed, he scoffed as he made short work of her bra. "That's a conservative estimate...oh, damn, baby...yes."

As he was sidetracked, staring at her newly naked breasts, she giggled and said, "How many do _you_ think?"

"Six," he answered roughly, helping her lay back onto the bed. From his tone, he was dead serious. "One for each year I should've been giving these to you."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh..."

Her declaration was interrupted as he pulled both her tights and her panties off in a sweeping gesture. He joined her on the bed and gave her a scorching kiss that curled her hair and made her pant. At the same time, she was smiling. Inside, she was filled with bubbling joy, and it was bursting out everywhere, in her touches and her kisses. There was no doubt this man loved her, and—

Any further thought was whisked away as Derek ran his hand over her soft curls to cup her between her legs. She moaned, and then moaned again when he clamped his lips tenderly on her nipple. She was already so wet, his fingers had no resistance as they glided against the slick skin in between her lips.

Derek was a tease. He touched her everywhere but where she needed it; she found herself arching, rocking for relief. She felt the flirting touch of his fingertip in her opening, nowhere near deep enough, and then the lightest tap on her clit sent her into spasms of delight.

And then he changed breasts and angles with his hand, and she did it all over again...

Goodness, he was serious about that orgasm business. That would kill her in the long run. How would that look to the papers in Chicago: _Woman Dies in Ecstasy_? She'd never be able to face the Morgans again.

Now that she was thinking again, she tried to sit up a bit. "Ah...Hot Stuff? I _really_ do not need six..."

His answering dark chuckle made her groan and giggle at the same time.

She closed her eyes. Might as well go along for the ride!

He slid down her body and kissed the triangle of curls he'd been touching a moment before. Penelope's eyes flew open, and she propped herself up on her elbows to get up as he moved between her legs. He spread her wider with his hands, focused on one thing.

She could feel herself blush again. Things came to her mind, wishing she had maybe shaved everything, thinking she might have needed a shower, but he eliminated that thinking with his next word...

"Beautiful," he whispered, parting her with his thumbs and opening her even more to his view. The look on his face, of heady intoxication knocked any silly thinking she might have had. She felt wicked, wanton for watching him as he watched her. He reigned a kiss on her inner thigh.

Penelope's head fell back on the pillows as he drove her insane with the push of his tongue, the gentle suction, the tickles of his beard. When he thrust his fingers inside her, she came over and over again.

"So damn beautiful," he growled huskily, kissing the pale flesh of her leg. "I need you so badly...How did I live without you?"

It came so clearly to her then: she hadn't lived. Not before him. She'd thought she'd known love, but she hadn't. He'd always filled her heart and her soul, just as surely as he now filled her body. He was magical, wonderful, and so giving. He was everything a lover should be, and all that she would ever want.

The ultimate gift of love.

When he finally rose above her, joining with her with one heavy slide, she felt tears spring to her eyes. She held him every way she possibly could. Her arms, her legs, even her swollen flesh clasped onto him, never wanting to let him go. They moved in unison, each word and thought gone as they worked toward mutual fulfillment.

She cried out one last time as the largest wave of pleasure washed over her, holding on as he continued his consummate pacing. Moments later, he gripped her hips, and with a final thrust, reached his own satisfaction.

The fire was dying down to embers and snow was falling outside, but it didn't matter to them. Moving to his side and continuing to his back, Derek held Penelope close to him, and then pulled up the comforter.

"Merry Christmas, Baby Girl," he murmured, kissing the top of her head, like he had thousands of times before.

She rested her cheek on his chest, in a spot so familiar to her. "Merry Christmas, Hot Stuff," she whispered, listening as the steady beat of his heart lulled her to sleep.

**_"The Christmas Spirit-_****Love****_-changes hearts and lives."-_**_Pat Boone_


End file.
